Miranda gave her a funny look. “How long did you wait for a response after writing your father and sister about the wedding? I doubt they even received that letter. And if they do happen to receive one from Aunt Bess, it will be a long time from now. By then, you would have felt comfortable enough to have told them the truth.”
The mention of the letter she’d sent her father and sister brought a nervous flutter to Rachel’s stomach. “What shall I do if I find out that they received the letter I sent them? The one inviting them to the wedding?”
Her friend smiled. “All you have to say is that you found out that your intended wasn’t the man you’d thought him to be. He turned out to be a jealous madman, who wouldn’t allow you to even talk with another man.” She got up from the bed. “Including George! That should convince them you were wise to leave Baltimore.”
Rachel grinned. “I think it will work.” She went to the window to stare down at her sister’s house. Studying the log cabin, she searched for the courage to cross the road and knock on Amelia’s door. “I hate it that I have to lie.”
Miranda joined her at the window. “You don’t have to,” she said softly. “I’ll do the talking.”
“You will?” Rachel turned with a hopeful look toward her friend.
“Of course I will. You’ve always tried to help me. Now I have a chance to do something for you.”
Rachel’s gaze held surprise. “I was able to come because of you! You and your uncle made this trip possible for me.”
“That’s what friends are for ... to help one another.” A film of tears filled Miranda’s eyes. “What am I going to do without you?” she whispered.
Rachel felt the sting of tears. “I’ll miss you so much.” She gave the other young woman a hug. “You will stay for a little while, won’t you?”
Miranda nodded. “If I can convince Uncle Rupert. I’m not in any hurry to make that trip back.”
“Not anxious to sleep in the woods again?”
Her friend chuckled as she glanced toward the window. Turning to gaze outside, Rachel stiffened as she saw the door to the cabin across the road open and a young woman step outside. It was Amelia.
“Why, there’s your sister now,” Miranda commented. “She looks well.”
Rachel stared at Amelia and felt an overwhelming rush of love. “She looks wonderful,” she said huskily. But she doesn’t look like she’s with child.
She experienced a jolt. Amelia wasn’t going to have a baby. She had dreamed that the Indian had told her her sister was expecting. Their conversation hadn’t been real.
“Don’t you think you had better go down there and greet her?” Miranda reached to open the window. “Unless you want to call her from here—”
“No, don’t!”
Miranda straightened. “Then you’d best get dressed and see your sister.”
Rachel nodded.
“Are you going to wear that?” Miranda was studying a gown that was draped over the back of the chair.
Glancing toward the garment, Rachel felt the blood drain from her face. It was the garment she’d chosen to wear in her dream, when she’d confronted the Indian in the dark, near her sister’s cabin.
She transferred her gaze to her clothes trunk, which looked as if it had been closed in a hurry, as the lid wasn’t shut tight. A blue sleeve from one of the gowns hung over the side of the chest.
She looked around the room for the gown she’d worn yesterday. She spied it on a hook next to the bed, where she remembered hanging it when she’d undressed for her bath. A trembling invaded her body. Dear God, had it all really happened? Her meeting with the Indian? Had she really awakened in the night, gone outside, and spoken with a savage?
No, it couldn’t have happened!
“Rachel, what’s wrong? You look ill all of a sudden.”
She managed to summon up a weak smile for her friend. “I’m all right. I guess I’m just feeling the effects of missing supper.”
Miranda made an exclamation of sympathy. “You’d best get dressed and get something to eat then. You can see your sister later.”
“Yes,” Rachel replied gratefully. “That’s a wonderful idea. Have you eaten?”
Miranda nodded. “Best biscuits I’d ever tasted. Mrs. Treehorn is a great cook.”
Perhaps she’d be better able to face the day if she had something substantial to eat. “Would you tell her I’ll be down in a few minutes for breakfast?”
“Breakfast! It’s time for the midday meal!”
Rachel gasped. She had slept the entire morning away. What on earth was the matter with her?
“Amelia.”
The young woman, who had opened her door a few seconds ago, looked stunned. “Rachel! My goodness, is that you?” She shook her head as if to clear it. “It can’t be you.” She peered at her sister more closely. “It is you!”
Rachel grinned, then leaned forward to hug her sister.
“I don’t believe it!” Amelia gasped. “When did you come? How did you get here? Who did you come with?”
Rachel moved aside, and Miranda stepped into view.
“Miranda?” Amelia blinked.
“Hello, Amelia. You’re looking well.”
“I can’t believe this!” Amelia cried.
“Can’t believe what?” a deep male voice said from inside the cabin.
Rachel tensed as a man joined Amelia at the open door. “What’s this?” he asked pleasantly.
“Oh, Daniel,” Amelia gushed. “You’re never going to believe this, but my sister is here! My sister Rachel and her friend.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Your sister?” He studied first Miranda, then Rachel, before his gaze went to Miranda. “You must be Rachel,” he said to Rachel’s friend.
Miranda blushed under the man’s smile. “I’m afraid not. I’m her friend, and I’m pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand. “Miranda Clark. You must be Daniel Trahern.”
Amelia’s husband took it and gallantly bent down to kiss her knuckles. “I’m pleased to meet you.” He was an attractive man with blond hair and a great deal of brawn. His shoulders were broad and powerful. His chest filled out and stretched the linen of his blue shirt. The arms below his rolled-up shirtsleeves were muscular and bronzed with fine blond hairs grazing the skin. He wasn’t the man Rachel had imagined. He was too good-looking, too well-mannered, to fit the picture of a wilderness blacksmith.
Daniel turned then to greet his wife’s sister. “Rachel?” he asked. He narrowed his gaze.
Rachel felt the sudden frost in the air between them. “That’s right,” she said. She didn’t offer her hand, and he didn’t offer her a smile. “So you’re Daniel.” She was about to say more when her sister’s voice drew her attention.
“I can’t believe it,” Amelia repeated.
Turning her gaze away from the husband, Rachel smiled at her sister. “I’m real,” she said. “Can we come in so we can catch up?”
Amelia appeared flustered as she stepped aside. “Of course! Come in, come in!” With her husband looking on with indulgence, she waved the two young women in.
The interior of the cabin was a little dark, but it was cozy and comfortable, and Rachel could see her sister’s attempts to brighten the inside. A large vase of wildflowers sat on the dining table on top of a crocheted table runner that Rachel recognized as Aunt Bess’s work.
On the fireplace mantel was a piece of blown glass; it had belonged to Rachel and Amelia’s mother, one of several pieces that had been divided equally and given to the two girls. To the right, there was a door to another room. Toward the rear of the great room, three doors led to what Rachel assumed were bedchambers. It was a big house for the married couple. Perhaps they’d built it to raise a large family?
“You have a lovely home,” Rachel said.
“Surprised?” Daniel asked with a hint of sarcasm.
Amelia didn’t seem to notice the mockery in her husband’s tone. “We love it here,” she said. “Ther
e’s plenty of room for a growing family.” She turned to smile at her husband.
The obvious affection between the two was painful to Rachel. “It’s good to see you,” Rachel said. Amelia gestured toward the sofa. The three women sat down.
“It’s so wonderful to see you, too!” Amelia exclaimed. “And you, Miranda.”
Miranda smiled. “Rachel has been anxious to get here. I’m afraid we didn’t leave under best circumstances, I’m afraid—”
“Is Aunt Bess all right?” Amelia asked with concern.
“She’s fine,” Rachel assured her.
“Did you get Rachel’s letter?” Miranda said, and Rachel flashed her a grateful glance.
“No, I didn’t.” Amelia frowned as her gaze went to her sister. “You sent a letter?”
“Some months ago,” Rachel admitted.
“Then you don’t know about the wedding,” Miranda said.
Amelia blinked. “Did Aunt Bess finally decide to marry?”
“No, she hasn’t,” Miranda said. “Rachel wrote to inform you that she was betrothed.”
“You did!” Amelia exclaimed. “Why, that’s wonderful!” She reached across the table to grab her sister’s hands. “You must be married then. Where is he? Where is your husband?”
A well of misery, Rachel stared down at their joined fingers, then gazed at her friend with a pleading look.
“Rachel called off the engagement and escaped,” Miranda said quietly.
Amelia appeared confused. “I don’t understand.” She studied her sister. “You’re not married? You didn’t come with your husband.”
“No.” Rachel’s voice sounded hoarse. “Miranda’s uncle brought me.”
“Her fiancé was a jealous madman,” Miranda said. “Rachel learned this before it was too late. She called off the wedding, but Jordan—Jordan Sinclair—was persistent.” She paused to pat Rachel’s arm. “He was more than persistent. He threatened her! She feared for her own life, and Aunt Bess’s.” The young woman placed an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “So she left ... we left, and, well, here we are.”
“Oh, Rachel,” Amelia whispered. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
Rachel’s tears were real. The mention of Jordan’s name had brought back the pain.
“I’m sorry, Rach,” Miranda said softly.
She nodded. “I’m all right.”
“So this Jordan Sinclair fellow was bothering you,” Daniel said.
Rachel looked at him. “Yes.” She didn’t blink. It was the truth. Jordan Sinclair bothered her still. He had stolen her heart, then trampled it to pieces when he’d run away with his widow.
Daniel continued to study her. “And your aunt?”
“Oh, Aunt Bess is fine,” Rachel replied. “She has George to protect her.”
Amelia smiled. “Has she married him?”
“Not yet,” Rachel replied, “but soon, I think. Right before I left, I sensed that she was weakening.”
“Good for George!” Seeing her husband’s puzzled look, Amelia explained, “George Bentley is a kindly gentleman who is in love with my aunt. He’s been trying to marry her for years. I think she loves him, but she refuses to admit it. Look how long it took before she’d allow George to court her.”
“I hope she marries him soon,” Rachel said. George Bentley was one of the few males left in the world that Rachel trusted. He was perfect for Aunt Bess. Rachel’s experience with Jordan had made her leery of all men. She transferred her gaze to her sister’s husband, who had moved to stand near his wife.
“How’s Father?” Rachel asked.
“You haven’t seen him?” Amelia said.
Rachel shook her head. “We arrived yesterday afternoon.” She blushed and avoided Daniel’s glance. “I lay down for a nap at the hotel, and I was so tired that I slept through supper.”
“Father’s been away,” her sister told her. “Daniel will find out for you if he’s returned.” She lovingly caressed her husband’s shoulder. “Won’t you, darling?”
His expression, which had been grim, softened as he studied his wife. “Whatever you want, love.”
He dislikes me, Rachel thought, knowing that it was true. She decided to pretend otherwise. “I appreciate it, Daniel. You’re a good brother-in-law and a true gentleman,” she said with just a hint of mockery.
His blue eyes flashed with anger as he met her gaze. She nodded, smiling, then turned her attention back to her sister.
“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Amelia said without expecting an answer. “We have plenty of room. You can go to the mission later. I think, though, you’ll find it quite comfortable here.”
Rachel saw Daniel’s look of dismay. “She might like it better at the mission,” he said carefully.
Amelia looked at him with surprise. “You don’t mean that! Rachel will like it here well enough.”
“Amelia,” Rachel said softly, “I don’t plan to return to Baltimore. My home is here now. I can’t live with you. It’s not right—”
“Yes, Amelia, she—” Daniel began.
“Why not?” Amelia asked.
“No!” Daniel and Rachel said simultaneously.
“It would be awkward for Rachel,” Daniel added.
Rachel softened toward her brother-in-law. “Amelia, Daniel is right,” she said. “You two, well, you’re married. You certainly don’t need me around.”
Amelia scowled at them. She narrowed her gaze at her husband. “I don’t understand why you’re behaving this way, Daniel. One would think you didn’t like my sister.”
Rachel looked at him with amusement. “Of course, he does,” she said. “Don’t you, Daniel?”
Her good humor faded when Daniel glared at her.
“Rachel is only thinking of the two of you, Amelia,” Miranda said. “You do not need your sister living with you.”
Looking relieved at the explanation, Amelia waved that notion aside. “But we would love having you.”
Rachel bit her lip to keep from replying. Daniel Trahern did not want her living in the same house. Why couldn’t her sister see or understand this?
“I’ll stay, but only for a short time. Once Father returns, I’ll go to the mission,” Rachel said. “Amelia, it was only by chance that we stopped here and learned that this was your home.”
“Uncle Rupert needed supplies,” Miranda explained.
“Rupert?” Daniel said. “Rupert Clark?”
“Yes. He’s my uncle,” Miranda said. “Why? Do you know him?”
Daniel grinned. “I’ve met him. How is the old coot?”
“He’s fine.”
“You traveled with Rupert Clark?” he asked Rachel. She saw a look in his eyes that could only be disbelief.
Rachel stiffened her spine. She knew that he thought her a snob, and that she had surprised him by journeying in the woodsman’s company.
She managed a smile. “Mr. Clark was extremely accommodating during our journey,” she said. “I thoroughly enjoyed being with him.”
Miranda grinned. “He gave her lessons in using a rifle,” she joked.
It was a teasing reminder of the night she’d thought she’d seen the Indian in the forest. “Miranda,” Rachel warned.
“Come, Rachel,” Daniel urged. “Do you have a tale to tell? It sounds like you know an interesting story.”
Rachel’s jaw tightened. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Daniel,” his wife said, “there’ll be plenty of time for stories later.” She rose from her chair. “Rachel, you’ll be in the second bedroom. Miranda, you can take the one to the right.”
“I can stay at the hotel,” Miranda said, “with my uncle.”
“I have a comfortable room there as well—” Rachel began.
“Miranda, are you sure you won’t change your mind?” Amelia asked. She turned toward her sister. “Rachel, you are staying here, and I want no arguments.”
“She hasn’t changed, I see,” Rachel said to Daniel with
out thought. “She still likes to order people around.”
Daniel started to smile, but then it vanished as he realized that he was talking with Rachel. “She loves you,” he said.
Everyone rose from the table. “Believe it or not, Daniel,” Rachel said quietly, for Daniel’s ears alone, as she came up from behind him, “I love my sister also very much.”
He looked back at her, startled. He studied her with a frown until Amelia got his attention. Rachel had no idea how her words had affected him.
It wasn’t until much later that Rachel had some time alone with her sister. Miranda had gone back to the hotel. She had been adamant about remaining there. Amelia had been equally adamant that Rachel stay at the cabin.
Daniel disappeared. Rachel wondered if he’d escaped to the smithy, but she didn’t hear the sound of hammer on metal from next door. Had her father returned? Had Daniel gone to check to see if John Dempsey was at home?
The door to the right of the great room and next to the stove led to the kitchen. There was no dining area here. It was strictly a workroom with cabinets, a worktable, and a food pantry. Rachel offered to help prepare for the next meal. She and Amelia began to snap the fresh beans that Daniel had picked from a small vegetable garden earlier that day.
It had turned into a particularly warm evening. Amelia seemed to be feeling the heat, as there were tiny beads of perspiration on her forehead. Rachel felt the heat, too, but she didn’t think it was too bad. She was surprised to see how much it affected her sister.
“Imagine how surprised I was to learn that you were married,” Rachel said with a hint of accusation in her tone. She studied Amelia as she snapped a bean. “How long?”
Amelia looked at her. “How long have I been married?”
Rachel nodded.
“A little over a year.”
“Over a year?” Rachel asked in a hoarse voice.
“I wrote Aunt Bess.”
“She never got your letter.” Rachel became thoughtful. “Unless ... no,” she muttered. “Why wouldn’t she tell me if she’d known?” Her gaze sharpened as she studied her sister carefully. “Is he good to you?” she asked. She hesitated. “Do you love him?”
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